Wrong Impression

14. 99 Bottles of Beer

Out of all the times Tom could've sounded like a creep, it had to be then. Not when he volunteered his only free afternoon to study with her, not when he offered her his lunch and prayed she wouldn't take it. Now, when he really wanted to take her to this place he loved.

It did sound like he wanted to get her drunk. Was that the problem? Was that why Angie was so wary of dating and relationships? Because some asshole had gotten her drunk at some point and taken advantage of her? Tom had to know because he couldn't afford to make mistakes like this anymore. Not when he'd decided that he really liked her. Enough to actually open up to her a little. Show her who he really was.

Except he might've just blown it to smithereens. And if he had... well, at least he was in a place he could get sloshed. He wasn't a big fan of drinking and had never gotten drunk in his life, but he liked the taste of beer, and from time to time, he liked to get buzzed.

And 99 Bottles of Beer was the only place he could do that. Because they didn't care how old you were as long as you didn't purchase alcohol. And Tom never had. He won it. Because the management had devised a brilliant system to attract more people. Karaoke beer. Sing karaoke well enough for the crowd to cheer you on, and the beer was on the house. And they had a lot of imported beer which was delicious.

The bar was packed as usual. It was a small space, the walls filled with wooden cabinets stocked with every brand of beer imaginable. Ninety nine brands, if the advertisement was to be believed. The stage was a small cramped thing in the corner and there was a long wooden bar in the center of the room and a few scattered tables. It was a tight squeeze, but Tom loved it. And as he waited by the entrance that evening, he prayed Angie would, too. If she showed up.

To his shock, at eight sharp, she turned the corner and walked towards him. He straightened and couldn't keep the grin off his face. This was going to be so good.

She stopped in front of the bar and looked at it skeptically. "Seriously? 99 Bottles of Beer?"

"It's a fun place," he said.

"Are you sure they have soda?"

No, he wasn't. "I'm sure they have imported beer and it's delicious. Do you even like beer?"

Angie bit her lower lip, still looking at the sign. "I'm not sure. I can't say I ever had any particularly good beer."

"Then you're going to love this place." He took her hand and pulled her inside. He liked holding her hand, even if it was just to lead her somewhere. Her skin was soft and warm and the fact that she wasn't pulling away gave him hope.

The patrons greeted him loudly when he walked in and the bartender waved him over to two empty seats. He didn't know their names, but he knew most of their faces. It was a pretty remote place and not too many people knew about it. Which was a damn shame.

Tom led Angie to the bar and she had a seat on the high stool, looking around curiously.

"Here to drink me dry again, kiddo?" the bartender asked with a smirk.

"Only if I'm good enough to impress the crowd," Tom answered.

The man huffed, filling a pint with foamy yellow beer. "We all know you are. We're about to start if you want to take the floor first."

"What are you talking about?" Angie asked, tearing her eyes away from the walls.

"Didn't I tell you? Here, we sing karaoke for beer," Tom said amused.

She raised her eyebrows. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, if you're good enough and the crown approves, the beer is on the house." He grinned. "So unless you're good at singing, it's tap water for you. Or you're paying for the beer."